The Lion Dance
by Fallen-Gabriel
Summary: Dorian Stephen: skater, university student, bounty hunter in training. What's the worst that could happen? How about a Marriage Law and a dash of Rufus Scrimgeour?


Chapter 1 – Fate is a Fickle, Funny, Bitch

Dorian Stephen was a great many things: a painter, a skater, and a college student. Not to mention…A **witch**. She sighed as she exited the gates of the university, frowning, and rubbed the back of her head. Today had pretty much gone exactly the same way any other first school day had gone. The teacher had called her name, looked at her, and only realized after class that she was female.

"I. Hate. Everything." She grumbled, pulling her skates off her shoulder, and sitting down on the sidewalk to strap them on over her shoes.

School had always been this way, as had any other affair in her life. "Maybe I should think about wearing a real bra instead of a sports one?" She thought aloud, buckling the leather strips tightly. No, that wouldn't work either…Being a skater meant she had to wear one, unless she wanted to garner male attention. Which, right now, she didn't.

She was too busy with school and other things, not to mention her one-time 'boyfriend' had only lasted two months until she'd broken up with him. He'd been sweet and had a kind heart, but in the end she wound up being the one with the 'pants' in the relationship. It seemed odd but she didn't want someone easy who bent like he had to her every whim. No, she wanted someone who would fight her, and would be a **man**. Not a boy.

"Ugh…" Dorian started rolling down the street, hands in her pockets, rocking from side to side as the wind blasted her back, chilly and unforgiving. Autumn was just around the corner… Pretty soon it would be the same time as last year. Dorian shuddered, almost stumbling in her skates. That was a memory she didn't want to revisit, when Hogawarts was turned upside down with Voldemort and the new headmaster and everything. She shook her head, speeding up her pace, and nearly collided with a random pedestrian as she sailed around the corner.

Not even pausing to excuse herself, she tossed a smirk over her shoulder as the man tripped, and then collided with the pavement, sending his briefcase flying, and papers to scatter about. She laughed, gliding in the air for a few precious seconds as the wind picked up again. Dorian had managed to graduate last year and headed on to University, despite everything that happened. The battle though…The culmination of the war was still freshly imprinted in her mind, and some nights…The memories caught up with her.

It was like a great lingering shadow was always behind her, a constant reminder of her friends that had died, and seeing Harry Potter pacing around in the Great Hall among all the dead. She'd never known him, despite being in the same grade level. Dorian was a Slytherin, a trickster, and an indifferent weirdo. She didn't care.

Of all the people that had died, there was one specifically that she was happy that hadn't. Nymphadora Tonks was one of the few people that Dorian had known, a kind twenty-something-year-old woman who had taken her under her wing after she'd saved her during that first battle. She'd never forgotten the purple haired woman who was constantly changing, who actually made her laugh despite herself when they were boarded up in a room, and then held her hair back as she was ill all over the hallway, upon finding out that the only five people her own age…Her only friends were either dead or weren't going to last the night.

Dorian was happy the young Auror was still alive, prowling around for other dark magic users, and had even helped Tonks get over her husband's rather sudden death. Remus Lupin…Dorian had only known him once, when he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, with his nice face and lanky hair. Despite being Slytherin, and despite him being a known Gryffindor, she had liked him well enough. Tonks had made the point: "just because you're in a different house, doesn't mean you have to dislike the others!"

Easier said than done when your house is the 'birthplace' of all the evil that had transpired for the last fifty or so years. Dorian snorted, hands in her pockets as she rounded one more corner, and slowed to a stop. After the final battle, the few Slytherins – despite fighting and dying – were ostracized. The adults tried to put a stop to it, to make everyone equal and alright in the end, trying to display a sense of calm despite it all. It didn't work.

Dorian actually remembered that while the school was being repaired, she had gotten into a fist fight in the upper sixth floor corridor… A Hufflepuff boy had ganged up on her with two others and she'd taken at least two down, despite the cracked cheekbone, bruised arms, and black eye she'd sustained. Tonks had appeared though before she got herself killed, sending them off, and patching her up.

Dorian pulled her skates off, tied the strings together, and threw them over her shoulder. She sighed, making quick work of the stairs, and paused only briefly on the landing to fish out her keys. "At least it's Friday…" She mumbled, opening up the apartment complex door, and slipped inside against the quickly ascending evening. She hadn't made it two feet in before she was assaulted by the receptionist – Ruby Valentine. And yes, that was her real name.

"You really should stop talking to yourself." She had a suave voice, almost always with a sultry undertone. Her deep moca-colored eyes could charm anyone, with caramel skin, and midnight locks that reached her mid back. She wore a short white skirt with a red tube top that had a black skull over the chest, her black heels adding height she didn't really need. Crimson colored lips were pulled back to reveal white teeth in a smirk, and Dorian inwardly realized why she could never keep a boyfriend.

"It helps me keep my thoughts in order." She supplied, pulling her back tight so her shoulders popped. "And what are you doing, skulking about in the wee hours of twilight mon chere?" Dorian grinned, raising a brow, and put her elbows on the counter, leaning forward. She enjoyed this, playing around with Ruby was always fun, and since the war time, friends were precious.

"Skulking? Me, really? Poor choice of words! I am the receptionist tonight…Mary got a date." She rolled her eyes, pouting her lips out in irritation. Dorian was torn between shocked and amused at the statement.

"Mary? Must be one hell of a man to take her out on a date!" She frowned. "My gods', this is horrible. Mary has got a man and I don't."

Mary was a mousey girl with brittle brown hair, light – kind of almond colored – eyes, and pallid skin. She couldn't get a tan without turning a rosy color and peeling like crazy. It wasn't as if she wasn't nice or had a sweet disposition, but Mary was also reserved, her loyalty could easily be swayed, and she was a terrible liar. Hence why Ruby was Dorian's go to for secret keeping.

"Well, maybe if you wore an actual bra and your name wasn't Dorian…" Ruby quipped, and the younger girl slapped her arm over the bar. "I'm just saying! That's not really the name a man wants to shout during orgasm!" She was laughing, but restrained herself long enough to muster the manliest voice she could: "Oh, Dorian, you're so tight and wonderful! Dorian, you make me-"

"Hush you!" Dorian threw her hands up, letting her forehead slam down hard enough on the bar that it actually hurt a little. "Oh, stuff it!" She looked up as Ruby burst out laughing at the sight of the red mark on her forehead.

"Have you ever thought of changing your name?"

"Have you ever thought of becoming a lesbian? Gods' know it would be easier to keep someone that way." Ruby smacked her for that one, lips pursed together tightly.

"Why you little-"

"I'm just saying, not judging!" The girl held up her hands in mock surrender, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "You didn't tell me about Mary's mystery man…"

"Well…" Ruby leaned on her elbow. "He's kind of short with a beard. His hair is this flaming red color and he's…He looks like he's in his thirties I suppose. His eyes are brown and he has sort of crooked teeth." Dorian winced.

"Sounds like a keeper that one."

"It's probably because he's the only man that would have her." The receptionist shook her head, sending her heavy curls over her shoulders. "She's been acting weird lately…"

She raised a brow. "Weirder than usual? Why?"

Ruby leaned forward, and Dorian recognized this as: gossip mode. "Well, about a week ago her uncle – you know, the one that works at the Ministry?" Dorian slowly nodded. "Well, he came over and…he looked really nervous, asked for Mary, and when she came around he asked her to see him, privately, in the tea room. They were in there for a while and then I heard Mary start crying, and he said he was 'sorry' before leaving out the floo."

"Why?"

Ruby shrugged. "I don't know. I tried to ask her but she just kept shaking her head and muttering to herself about getting a boyfriend fast or something like that. It was really weird."

"Okay…" Dorian dragged out the word on her tongue, the corners of her mouth drawing down deeply in a frown. "I'm going to head up; the teacher dumped a thesis on us over ancient Roman lore." She stood up straight, adjusting her canvas pack, and skates on her shoulders before moving for the stairs up.

"Oh, wait!" Ruby called, fishing out an envelope from a cubby labeled #27…Dorian's room number. "You got a letter…From the Ministry, official business."

"What?" Her brow furrowed as she came back to the desk, taking the document. "I haven't done anything wrong as far as I know. Unless this is more shit about the war…" She growled the last part, turning, and made her way up to her room. The letter crumpled in her clenched grip, her keys digging grooves into her palm as she reached the third landing of the complex. Dorian jerked her door open, only managing to restrain herself to shut it on the other side, and locked it.

The long, pokey hallway led into the main room, where a fireplace sat on the farthest wall, framed by two windows. A couch of some expense sat before it with two tables on both ends, and a floor lamp behind the left one for illumination. The kitchen was to the left, through a narrow archway. It was small and white, with good cabinet space and a small fridge. To the right was her bedroom, a fair sized space with the bed on the back wall and a window on the left. There was enough room for her desk in there, along with a small bathroom that had a closet to fit her washer and drier.

Dorian put her skates by the door, still having a tight hold on her mail, and made her way further inside. She threw her canvas pack on the couch, where it bounced off and landed on the floor, the letter casually tossed away. It skittered off the top of one of the tables and floated to the wooden ground.

Dorian entered her kitchen, letting out a deep breath, and scrounged around for something to make. There was some leftover meat from the honeyed ham she'd made the other day, along with some cheese to grate. She fished her ingredients out and searched for the bread, huffing in irritation. "Damnit…Where did that infernal thing go?" She frowned, reaching into her pocket, and withdrew her wand. "I can't believe I'm doing this…Accio, bread!"

Sure enough, the loaf flew into her hand from one of the top cupboards, plopping into her palm, and she scowled. "Really?" Rolling her eyes she threw a pan onto the stove top and turned on the heat. A ham and cheese sandwich was more than she could hope for while at University, she'd seen way too many of her friends forced to live off Ramen noodles. Dorian stuck her tongue out. The orange packaged, starch-filled, nasty flavor packet filled 'snacks' were enough to make her want to swear off Asian food for months.

She buttered her bread, put her meat and cheese in the middle, and plopped the whole thing in the skillet to cook. After putting everything away, she leaned on the counter and crossed her arms, frowning. "I should start on the rough draft of that paper…"

University was a mixture of magical and non-magical studies, trying to catch her up on things in the Muggle world would make it that much easier when she became a Bounty Hunter. _"Always be on your guard, be silent and swift, don't get caught in the crossfire, and most of all – Don't show your cards till you're sure you're the one that's going to come out on top!" _Her trainer's words rang in her ears and she flipped her sandwich, remembering the day he'd given her the greatest lesson of all. A summer day in a park over tea; Dorian smirked.

She finished her food, tossing it on a plate, and fixed herself a drink. The dishes were thrown in the sink, and she plopped down on her couch to eat. Taking a bite of her food, she snatched her backpack off the floor, and pulled out the books she'd checked out to start. "List sources, ingrain excerpts, and back up theories with evidence…Right."

She had three key pieces written with sources before she spotted it out of the corner of her vision.

The letter was sitting rather innocently on the floor, the embossed sigil of the Ministry emblazed across the seal in crimson wax. Dorian frowned, putting down her ink pen, and knitted her fingers together to twiddle her thumbs. Why was **she** getting a letter from the Ministry? "Well, only one way to find out…"

She leaned over, plucking it off the hard wood as if it were a howler, and casually tore it open, as if trying to hide the pounding of her heart from an invisible watcher. As she unfolded it, curly, flourished, obsidian script met her eyes.

_**Dear Ms. Dorian Stephen,**_

_**I am pleased to inform you that we have selected a husband for you under the new Marriage Law that has come into effect. **_Dorian stopped at this point in the letter, eyes widening, watering, as her jaw fell open. _**The Law strictly dictates that any unmarried man from twenty to sixty will be engaged henceforth to a woman of either eighteen to forty, respectively. **_She almost gagged, falling back into the couch, unable to tear her eyes away. _**You, my dear, lucky girl are now engaged to none other than - !**_ Dorian stopped again, suddenly wishing she didn't exist._** That's why I'm writing this letter personally, to be the first to congratulate you on this most momentous occasion!**_

The letter slipped from her hands, sliding between her trembling fingers, and she felt her legs shake uncontrollably. Dorian put her face in her hands, the parchment fluttering to the floor, and she started breathing hard.

"Please tell me it's a joke…That this is some sick humor…" But no, she knew it wasn't. There was no way that someone could get the official seal that was imprinted on the wax of the envelope or the bottom of the page. She'd heard of this before. A marriage law, it hadn't been employed in near a half a century after the last Dark War and the human World Wars… But here it was, clear for all to see, they were enacting one now thanks to Lord fucking Voldemort.

"Son of a bitch!" She cursed the dead man, the man who'd ruined her life twice over now, standing up to pick up a random ornament on her mantel to hurl it at the wall. It was a little animal statue, a fox it seemed, the head and two legs splintering off to skitter across the floor in any direction. "Wank, bugger, fucking, shitting, arse-head-in-fucking-hole!" She swore, quickly, violently, and quite colorfully as she waved her arms in wild rage. She picked up a pillow from her couch and threw it, sending feathers fluttering all around.

Right about now, even Dementors would be afraid of the whirlwind that was Dorian Stephen as she spouted curses from her mouth like a dragon would fire.

She crossed the space in front of her couch again and snatched up the letter, her eyes focusing on the words, even in her dizzying haze of anger.

_**Being a confident to the Minister **_– Dorian snorted. – _**I was given the honor of this position. **_"I highly doubt that," she hissed. _**And although he has put up some resistance to the passing of the law**_ – "One would hope so." Dorian growled. – _**I do believe he will realize that it is all for the best!**_ "I don't think so."

_**Now, you two shall have to be wed before the date of December twenty-first or you shall face rather dire consequences, and I'm sure you'd rather not face punishment.**_ "If it meant I could spite you one more time it might be worth it!" Dorian snarled._** And, within twenty four hours after your vows have been taken, you must…Well, consummate your engagement.**_ Her blood ran cold, the pit of her stomach fell, and her heart leapt into her throat all in one go.

_**I'm sure I don't need to go into detail on that one. Upon your wedding day, which, I'm sure you'll want to schedule with him immediately, you will be joined in a magical contract that will ensure you're properly bound. I, of course, shall try to be in attendance **_– "Just so she can rub salt in the wound…" Dorian all but rasped – _**to wish you both well in person. I can only hope if I'm not able to make it that you will have a long and happy life together!**_

_**Signed, Dolores Umbridge**_

Dorian slowly stood, walking over to the fireplace, and threw the letter inside. "Burn bitch, burn." She hissed, her lips pressing together firmly as she all but collapsed onto her sofa.

Dorian gazed out the window, the silvery moon sending a sheet of bright white over her face. The dark brown upholstery of the couch felt worn under her cheek as she laid her head on the arm rest, closing her eyes, and shuddered.

Dorian turned over onto her back, fatigue pressing down on her, suffocating her, and all of a sudden her apartment felt more like a cage than a home. Wait, why didn't Ruby have a letter? _Maybe it hasn't arrived yet… _And then suddenly, everything came focused into perfectly horrifying clarity.

Mary had been acting strangely because she **knew**. Dorian's eyes widened, a lump rising in her throat. Mary knew. Mary had known the whole gods' damned time and never said a word. Her uncle had told her that day in the tea room. That was why she'd been trying to get a boyfriend, a good man, so that she wouldn't have to marry.

Ruby had dumped her latest boyfriend yesterday, which meant she was bound to get a letter soon as well…

"Oh no…" She jumped to her feet and ran out her door, slamming into the railing of the floor she sped down the steps, and nearly fell flat on her face in her haste to get to the landing. The door was open to the complex, Mary was standing the doorway, practically beaming, and white hot fury clouded Dorian's vision. "You bitch!" She spat, charging at the other witch, and grabbed her by her collar, pressing her to the door. Her knuckles dug into her windpipe, cutting off circulation, and air. "You fucking knew! You **KNEW** this whole gods' damned time! You never said a fucking word to me or Ruby!"

Said witch was at her side as she continued to lash the other woman with insults in a flurry. "Merlin's beard Dorian, what the hell is your problem?!" Her wide eyes fell on her friend as she managed to pry her away from the now sobbing Mary and toss her a few feet back. Ruby was taller than her and had more leverage, holding an arm out to stop her from attacking again.

"She knew!"

"Knew what?! Blimey, I'm not a fucking mind reader!" Tension soared through the roof as the older woman raised her voice; Ruby and Dorian both panted as Mary sunk to the floor and wept.

"Her uncle, when he came here he was informing her that a marriage law was going to be enacted!" Dorian yelled, unable to restrain her violent rage. Ruby's eyes widened, frozen, and she turned to look at Mary. "That's why I came down here. That boyfriend you dumped, if he's a good man you're going to want to rethink your decision…" The receptionist turned to her, visibly shaking a little.

"What…What is it-"

"It said men from twenty to sixty will be paired with girls from eighteen to forty." Her jaw clenched, her fists quivering at her sides.

"That means you…" Ruby pointed at her, bewildered and horrified.

"Yes…I have a fiancé now." Dorian felt as if the floor had given out from under her at the words, wishing nothing more than to be swallowed into the world, and the look of pity she got from her friend didn't help either. Mary suddenly wailed, and two pitiless, angry gazes fell on her. "What in the flying hell are you sniveling about?"

"I…I wanted to tell you – but, but my uncle said he – that I couldn't!" The bounty-hunter-in-training rolled her eyes, disgust coming over her.

"You were afraid and cowardly, you didn't say a fucking word to Ruby or me." All she felt at the moment was the need to strangle Dolores Umbridge and Mary…Or perhaps just put some of the worst curses she could think upon them and all of their descendants.

"But – But!"

"Shut up!" Ruby snapped, putting her face in her hands and inhaled sharply. She wiped her hair from her face and the woman on the floor just whimpered. "Okay…I…I need to call Brandon. My gods', I'm so scared, I can't fucking think – Wait, Dorian." She looked at the younger woman, brow furrowed. "Who…Who is-?"

"…Rufus Scrimgeour."

R-D

Well…That happened. I've never written a Harry Potter fanfic, so, forgive my lack of knowledge. I have read up to the fifth book and seen most of the movies, but that was years and years ago. I've never even seen the seventh movie (either part) and the sixth one I watched most of. So, I'm in a bit of a learning curve. I tried to read the sixth book but lost interest around the tenth chapter – well, no, I just never got to finish because my friend wanted the book back.


End file.
